


kokoro no kaze

by rougeandtonic



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, M/M, Mental Illness, but i will still call it a happy ending, nothing is fixed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-28 01:20:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10061531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rougeandtonic/pseuds/rougeandtonic
Summary: Victor shoves a pile of clothes into his arms before bouncing out of the room. "Breakfast in five minutes! If you're not there, I'm siccing Makkachin on you."Yuuri glances back at his bed, forlorn. But he stumbles into his practice clothes, anyways, and runs his hand through his messy hair. He yawns again and--catches sight of the envelope on his desk.The big, brown envelope has sat there for three weeks taunting him. He bites his lip. He knows he has to stop putting this off. The application has to be reviewed and approved before his first qualifier and the Cup of China is only a month away.Plus, the longer he waits, the harder it's going to be.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Set in an alternate world where they're in a relationship between episodes 5 and 6.

A voice murmurs in his ear. "Wake up, Yuuri."

"Mmm?"

Lips press into the back of his neck. A hand gives his upper arm a squeeze.

"Wake up," the voice says again.

Yuuri is not going to wake up. It's a terrible idea. His bedmate can stay, though. Yuuri snuggles back into a warm, solid chest. 

The voice takes on a warning tone. "Yuuri."

"Too early," he mumbles. He peeks out at the light shining through his curtains and promptly closes his eyes again, pretending he didn't see it.

His bedmate chuckles and then the mattress shifts as he jumps off the bed. It leaves Yuuri's back cold, so he pulls up the sheet.

Which his bedmate promptly rips off of him.

"Hey!" Yuuri thrashes into a sitting position and glares.

Victor must have gotten up without Yuuri waking, because he's already fully dressed. And disgustingly cheery.

"Rise and shine, beautiful!" he sing-songs.

Yuuri slumps over, rubbing his eyes. He takes it back. His bedmate cannot stay. Yuuri doesn't care how tempting he might look in the hot springs, he is never allowed back here again.

"Never allowed back? No matter how tempting I look?" Victor pouts. Yuuri accepts the glasses he hands him, but only so that he can better glare at him.

Except he doesn't get the chance, because strong arms are pulling him to stand.

"You are a cruel, cruel man," Yuuri informs him, only to be undermined by a yawn.

Victor shoves a pile of clothes into his arms before bouncing out of the room. "Breakfast in five minutes! If you're not there, I'm siccing Makkachin on you."

Yuuri glances back at his bed, forlorn. But he stumbles into his practice clothes, anyways, and runs his hand through his messy hair. He yawns again and--catches sight of the envelope on his desk.

The big, brown envelope has sat there for three weeks taunting him. He bites his lip. He knows he has to stop putting this off. The application has to be reviewed and approved before his first qualifier and the Cup of China is only a month away.

Plus, the longer he waits, the harder it's going to be.

Yuuri hears Victor cooing at Makkachin down the hall. At least he'll have privacy if he gets this over with now.

Victor's door's open but Yuuri knocks anyways. Victor glances up from where he's scratching Makkachin's chest. He gives Yuuri a soft smile as he stands up. But then narrows his eyes.

"What is happening with your hair, solnishko?"

Yuuri ignores him and, heart pounding, thrusts the envelope at Victor's chest.

Victor raises an eyebrow. "What is this?"

"Celestino used to do this for me." Yuuri drops his eyes to the floor.

"Ah, a coaching responsibility!" Victor sounds oddly delighted at the prospect. He pulls a stack of papers out of the envelope.

"I, uh, filled out as much as I could," Yuuri says, still not looking up. "But there are some parts you need to do."

"Application for Use of Banned Drugs," Victor reads out loud.

Yuuri's stomach drops.

Any trace of enthusiasm is gone from Victor's voice as he asks, "Are you sick?"

"No, no, no," Yuuri protests.

He hears Victor shuffling through the papers.

"Celestino made me go to a doctor," Yuuri says quickly. The marble bust next to Victor's bed is staring at him. "This was the only one that worked. But it's on the ISU's list."

"What is it for?"

Yuuri doesn't answer. Just says, "I have to apply for approval every year."

He finds the courage to look back up at Victor, who's frowning at him.

"They always approve it, though! It's not a problem."

"I see," Victor says slowly.

"All right. I'm, uh--I'll see you down at breakfast?"

"Yuuri--"

Yuuri pauses. "You should read it. They might ask you questions. There's a note from the doctor. Just. Please. Please don't tell anyone. Don't tell my family."

"Yuuri." Victor steps toward him and reaches out his hand. But Yuuri stumbles back to make his escape.

 

"We'll work on your quad salchows today," Victor announces as he sits down at the common room table.

Yuuri glances up at him. In the minutes it took Victor to come down the stairs, he had readied himself for the worst case. He knows that any intimacy that they had between them is over. But if Victor still plans to train him today, that means--

"Great," Yuuri agrees. He quickly turns back to his miso soup.

Victor pokes his knee under the table. "None of that attitude. I'll start thinking that I'm having a bad influence on you."

"What attitude?" Yuuri asks. Victor's still going to be his coach. For that, he'll take a hundred days of scathing critiques of his salchows. He'll take a hundred breakfasts with his rice swapped out for tofu.

"Right," Victor says dryly as he steals a piece of said tofu. Yuuri, trying to act like nothing has happened, goes for his rice. Victor, as he does every morning, slaps his chopsticks away.

 

Outside the shoji shades, the night is dark.

They had trained just like any other day. They'd eaten dinner amidst the raucous of the common room. They'd soaked together in the uncovered onsen. But now Victor catches his arm in the hallway between their rooms.

( _We never should have started this_.)

( _I can't be with you anymore_.)

( _I'm not coming tonight._ )

He's heard Victor's next words a hundred times. He doesn't need to hear them out loud.

So, before he can get them out, Yuuri pulls his arm back and says, "Good night, Victor."

 

"I know you're probably worried that I forgot, but I mailed the paperwork in yesterday," Victor tells him as they're walking home from the Ice Castle the next afternoon. Yuuri is trying his best to ignore the soreness in his legs from speed runthroughs of his short program. "I sent it express. I don't know how long it takes them to approve it."

"You did read it, didn't you?" Yuuri asks. He's starting to worry that Victor hadn't since he still hasn't been behaving any differently with Yuuri. The truth would come out eventually. It would be so much worse if Yuuri had to tell him himself.

But Victor says, "I read it."

His blue eyes meet Yuuri's for a brief moment, then Yuuri looks down.

"I'm sorry," he says quietly.

"You should be," Victor says.

Yuuri's heart seizes.

"I've decided that I hate filling out forms. I refuse to do it anymore, on principle." Then Victor frowns back at Yuuri. "Are you all right, solnishko?"

"Yes. No. I'm fine." Yuuri shakes his head. He hadn't realized he'd stopped. 

When he catches up again, Victor hugs an arm around his shoulders. Yuuri can't help lean into him. He smells like fresh springs and expensive cologne and even if Yuuri aches for the memories of Victor holding him in bed, this is more than he thought he'd have.

 

That night, Yuuri hears:

( _Don't come to me._ )

( _This was a mistake._ )

( _Just focus on your skating for now._ )

He scrambles back to his room before Victor can speak.

 

The next night:

( _I wish Yurio had won_.)

( _I wish I'd never kissed you_.)

( _I wish--_ )

 

Yuuri wakes to the weight of a body sinking onto the end of his bed. A hand strokes his leg. He blinks and reaches for his glasses.

"Victor?"

Victor watches him for a long moment, head tilted thoughtfully. A dozen worst case scenarios run through Yuuri's mind.

"You haven't been sleeping," Victor finally says with a squeeze to his calf.

Yuuri yelps at the pain shooting through the muscle and kicks out at him.

"Ah, right," Victor says. "I made you run the castle steps again yesterday, didn't I?"

Yuuri forgets himself long enough to glare. But then Victor reaches out a hand to him. Yuuri stares at it for an uncomprehending moment, then lets Victor pull him up to sit.

"I'm sorry," Yuuri says. He hugs his knees to his chest and the bed sheets pool around his hips.

"Sometimes I think you apologize for the wrong things," Victor says. He wraps an arm around Yuuri's back.

"What's the right thing to apologize for, then?"

"You tell me."

"For being weak," Yuuri says.

"You're not weak, though." Victor shifts to look at him and his hand slides to his back. Yuuri can feel the warmth of it through his thin t-shirt. "Unless you're saying we need to spend more time in the weight room this week. Actually, now that you bring it up, more upper body strength wouldn't hurt with your jumps--"

" _Mentally_ weak," Yuuri cuts in. "You read the papers I gave you."

Victor hums. "I did."

Yuuri looks across the room at the picture of Victor on his desk. He doesn't know how he missed taking it down. Victor must have seen it by now. He wonders why he hasn't said anything.

Then he notices Victor tracing lines over his back. He can't make out the figures, but he thinks it might be--

His laugh comes out a little hysterical.

"What?" Victor's hand stills.

"Are you choreographing on my back right now?" He glances up at Victor. Who looks sheepish.

"Is it one I know?" Yuuri asks, resting his cheek on his knee.

Victor nods. "Pay attention."

It starts over the center of his back and curves up to his shoulder. Four circles lap over each other, then three. There's a glide down to his hips. A spin over a knob of his spine. A sequence that zig zags over the back of his neck. A spiral tickles his ribs. More circles.

It ends with a finger poking the same place it began. Victor looks at him expectantly.

Yuuri shakes his head. "I can't tell."

Victor heaves a sigh. "One more time," he says.

It's the same. Curves, circles, zig zags, a long sweeping glide, more circles and then four circles over his scapula that--end in a sudden halt. Then a shaky curve before it picks up pace again.

"Victor!" Yuuri shoves him away. "You put in a fall on the quad salchow?"

Victor's eyes sparkle. "Apparently I had to make it more realistic for you to recognize your own free skate."

Yuuri drops his forehead onto his knees, trying to act exasperated even as he can't help but laugh again. Victor rubs his hand over his back, smoothing out the ghosts of the choreography.

"You're still here," Yuuri says after a moment. He raises his head to look at Victor.

Victor's eyes are fond.

"Get dressed." He stands up with a grin. "We have a long day today. We need to work on those quad salchows and, apparently, we also have extra upper body work in the gym."

"Wait." Yuuri grabs Victor's jacket.

Victor pauses. Then says, "I am here. If you want me to be."

Yuuri tugs him down and presses a kiss into his soft lips.

**Author's Note:**

> kokoro no kaze = 'cold of the soul'
> 
> It was a marketing campaign for antidepressants in 1990s Japan.
> 
> Because of the stigma and the consequences of disclosure in traditionally collectivist societies, I wanted to keep many of the words unsaid.


End file.
